


Battlefield

by aravenwood



Series: Febuwhump '19 [25]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Bruce Banner, Hurt Tony Stark, Protective Bruce Banner, Protective Tony Stark, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 14:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aravenwood/pseuds/aravenwood
Summary: This pain...he'd felt it before, not nearly as often but enough that he knew what had caused it.It was the pain which came when Hulk was defeated.Written for the Febuwhump '19 prompt "battlefield".





	Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder if I should have kept a tally for how many times I've whumped certain characters. And I wonder who would have been at the top. Maybe not Bruce - not yet anyway - but he must be pretty close to the top. I would feel bad for putting him through hell but I've really enjoyed it.
> 
> Speaking of enjoy, enjoy!

When Bruce came to the battle was still raging on, the sound of gunfire and explosions so loud that he clamped his hands over his ears as soon as his body was awake enough to move. Every muscle was on fire, as was always the case after a Hulk-Out, but this somehow felt worse. It was more than just stiffness, more than just overuse, more than just the agony which came with his body literally stretching him out and reshaping him like he was made of clay instead of flesh and bone. But this pain...he'd felt it before, not nearly as often but enough that he knew what had caused it.

It was the pain which came when Hulk was defeated.

Keeping one hand against his ribs and the other covering his ears to block out some of the sounds of the battle, Bruce struggled to sit up and surveyed the scene before him. He was right in the middle of the street with destruction all around him; cars up in flames, chunks of concrete torn from buildings, holes smashed into the road. There were bodies littered all across the street, every single one with the same face and the same suit - a weak attempt at a disguise that shouldn't have worked but had for so long. The streets of New York had become a warzone, and seeing a battlefield in the place of the bustling city was...sickening.

And yet, it got worse. Without his glasses, Bruce's vision was limited to his immediate surroundings and a series of blurs which could have been almost anything. Nothing had any shape, any substance or any distinguishing features, and yet as his eyes landed on a red and yellow splodge on the side of the road, he recognised it immediately.

"Tony!" he cried out, but his voice was so weak that it was lost among the gunfire happening somewhere beyond where his eyes could focus. He cursed and tried to drag himself to his feet but moving around on his own was always difficult after a Hulk-Out and his arms buckled as he tried to push his body up. "No," he whispered and tried again, breathing deeply. Tony was down and possibly seriously injured, and Bruce had to get to him, had to help.

By sheer willpower alone, he managed to get his feet under him and staggered slowly over to where he'd seen Tony. His knees were shaking violently, as was the rest of him, and every step was so exhausting that he was sure that he would collapse at any moment. The gunfire continued but he couldn't see where it was coming from so tried to keep his head low. Being shot wasn't something he was afraid of right now - he didn't have time to be afraid, not when he had no idea why Tony was down in the first place. Not when he didn't know if Tony was even alive.

Nothing else mattered right now. Not his own exhaustion or the battle raging on around him. It didn't even matter that he was naked save for a pair of boxers that he and Tony had been able to come up with in the lab. He was exposed in every sense of the word and he didn't even care.

Finally, with his body shaking so violently that he was barely upright, Bruce reached Tony's side. He collapsed to his knees and reached for Tony's helmet to retract his mask, an action which should have been so simple but which took several tries with his fumbling.

Tony's face was still beneath the mask. His eyes were closed, lips parted as he struggled to take in air. There was blood on one side of his face from a cut which ran from just above his eyebrow down to his cheekbone, barely missing the corner of his eye. Bruce had no idea how deep it was, but he wasn't surprised that Tony had been knocked out.

"Tony?" he croaked with as much power as he was able to put behind his voice, which was to say not a lot. But surprisingly, Tony's eyelids fluttered at his name. A moment later his brows furrowed and his expression filled with pain. He gritted his teeth and took several shuddering breaths, all of them cut short as he tried to inhale more deeply.

Bruce sat back on his heels and braced his hands on the ground as he watched Tony struggle to open his eyes. "Bruce?" the other man muttered, his eyes darting from side to side before finally settling on Bruce's face. "What...happened?"

"I don't know," Bruce admitted. "You were knocked out, I think. Looks like you hit your head. How are you feeling?"

"Sick," said Tony in a voice that was so...dull, so lifeless that he didn't sound even a little bit like himself. "And my...my ribs hurt." He raised a heavy arm to curl around his stomach.

Snap, Bruce commented silently. "Can you breathe alright? I know it's probably difficult to take a deep breath, but is that because of the pain or because you can't do it?" The words came out more slurred than Bruce would have liked, and he wrapped his arms around himself in a defensive gesture. He hated feeling like this - so weak and vulnerable.

Tony's expression flashed with concern, but he didn't say anything, just focused on inhaling deeply. A moan escaped as he forced himself to continue past the pain. Letting out a shuddering breath, he hissed through gritted teeth, "just hurts."

Bruce nodded. "Ok, good." He glanced over his shoulder, noticing for the first time that the gunshots had stopped. His eyes landed on several dark blurs which seemed to be coming their way, and he couldn't help but tense up. He couldn't make out faces or anything that might tell him who it was, and that frightened him.

Apparently his fear was easy to spot, because a cold metal hand touched his wrist and gave it a squeeze. "'s Cap and the gang," Tony muttered, and Bruce relaxed once more.

"You two alright?" came Steve's voice as the blurs drew closer and closer until finally they were recognisable. Everyone else looked no worse for wear, and relief washed over Bruce. Only one person to fix. Thank god, because he didn't think he was capable of helping anyone else, not when he felt so exhausted and drained.

"We're fine," Tony said. "Well, not fine. Bruce looks like he's going to drop any second."

"Tony has broken ribs and a concussion," Bruce mumbled petulantly, the words coming out before he could stop them.

Tony snorted. "Telltale."

Bruce didn't have the energy to reply. His head fell forwards until his chin hit his chest, and he leaned more heavily against the ground. There were lights dancing across his vision, flashing black and then white and then black again. He let out a long sigh and brought up one hand to rub at his eyes, but his other arm buckled and he found himself falling, falling until he wasn't and there was a hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

"Bruce?" he heard someone call, their voice low and concerned. He tried to answer but only succeeded in a choked moan as his eyes slid shut.

"Bruce?" That was Tony. He sounded worried too. Worried about Bruce when he should be worried about himself, because concussions and broken ribs were no laughing matter.

Suddenly Bruce was being lowered onto his back and he was staring up at the sky. It was still bright, so bright that he had to close his eyes to lessen the pain. "'m fine," he mumbled. "Jus'...tired."

A hand grabbed his and gave it a light squeeze. "Alright, buddy. Go to sleep, you've earned it."

Bruce saw no reason to argue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
